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head back and tied up my hair as Jessica began talking.
    “So, I thought you’d want to know, Sam text me last night. He said Brandon was super pissed that you didn’t show yesterday.”
    Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I faced Jessica and shrugged. “So? He’s just pissed he didn’t get laid.”
    “Addy!”
    “What? It’s the truth. Don’t act like you’ve never done it, Jess.”
    With an irritating giggle, she replied, “I’m not.”
    “Ah-huh,” was my nonchalant response, not really caring either way what she had or hadn’t done. I was too busy thinking about the conversation with my history teacher from the afternoon before. This is very dangerous, Addison.
    What was very dangerous?
    I should have asked him, but I knew, just like he did, and that’s why he’d sent me away.
    “Good morning, ladies!” Miss Shrieve’s voice called out as she jogged over to us. Her blond ponytail swished back and forth as she bounced along the grass.
    “I hope you are all warmed up and ready to practice for the big meet tomorrow.”
    As I bent down to touch my toes, the other girls around me chorused out, “Yes!”
    “Good, good! I’m so excited for you all. Addy? How are you feeling this morning?”
    I straightened instantly and aimed a guilty look her way. For a moment, I had the insane notion she was referring to something else entirely.
    “Legs feeling strong?”
    Releasing the breath I was holding, I gave her my brightest, fakest smile. It was the least I could do. Miss Shrieve, after all, was someone who had seen me at my worst, and now, wanted to fuck my history teacher. I could tell because I wanted to as well.
    “Yes. I feel very strong,” was my reply, and I wasn’t lying. Remembering the way Mr. McKendrick had been hard inside his jeans, and his eyes—those intense eyes—both of those things made me feel strong, made me feel superior .
    “Good! We need you strong to fight for what’s yours.”
    She was referring to beating the overall best time in hurdles, but as I agreed with her and began to remove my track pants, all I could think about was fighting for Mr. McKendrick.
     
    * * *
     
    This morning I’d requested the first hour of my day free. I wanted to go down and visit my father.
    He’d been transferred to a hospice facility a little over a month ago, and watching him become a mere shell of the man he once was had to be one of the cruelest fates I’d witnessed.
    Heart disease from years ago is where it had all started, and the road up until this point had been rife with surgeries and setbacks. I’d been given a harsh lesson as a thirty-two-year-old, and that is—live for the moment because miracles don’t exist.
    Then there was the man himself, always doing what he thought was right. He had lived with this diagnosis for so long without telling me to spare me from the pain. It wasn’t until these final months, when everything was failing, that he’d reached out.
    Selfish of him or kind? I still hadn’t decided.
    Getting out of my pickup, I slammed the door shut before making my way through the gated fence surrounding the track.
    I was still extremely uncomfortable about what happened yesterday afternoon with Addison and what I’d done after. When she had left my house, I’d been unable to get the image of her sitting in her car pleasuring herself out of my fucking head.
    The way her legs had been slightly splayed under the steering wheel and how her hips had moved, giving away exactly what she’d been doing without me even needing to see. As if that hadn’t been enough, the way her mouth—that full-lipped mouth—had opened and sighed as she must have touched the very right… fuck .
    Again, there I was, disgusted with myself and sporting another erection due to my unruly thoughts of a fucking student. At least last night I’d been able to privately take care of the issue and had. I’d gone into my shower and spent a long time jacking off to the image of Addison, which